


A Horse Called Dick (Clexa Eq AU)

by longestdoggo



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Basically, F/F, Horses, Slow Burn, clexa equine au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-23
Updated: 2020-10-23
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:14:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27161665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/longestdoggo/pseuds/longestdoggo
Summary: Lexa buys a horse from Clarke. It comes with a raging crush as an added bonus. It's Clexa and horses. I'm feeling nostalgic. It will become less horse focused as it continues (probably).
Relationships: Clarke Griffin/Lexa
Comments: 5
Kudos: 27





	A Horse Called Dick (Clexa Eq AU)

Lexa was going to see a horse. Her friend Anya had sent her the advert as a joke, and indeed the first thing she’d done was laugh - it read briefly “Dick. Tall, dark, and handsome. Ladies ride.” The second thing she’d done was respond with a comment on the likelihood of the horse living up to his name, and the third thing she’d done was ring the number attached to the ad. The voice on the other end had been curt; she’d been told the address and to come on Sunday at 3pm, but not a lot else. She realised as she drove there that she didn’t even know how big this thing would be - the ad said tall, but did that mean he was on the large side or an absolute giant? Lexa’s father had never let her on anything bigger than 16 hands. Mr Woods preferred rather genteel mounts; always well bred, clean limbed thoroughbred types and above all never male - stallions were dangerous and geldings dull. He tended toward greys or palominos, although he’d allow a striking chestnut on occasion. Lexa had spent her teenage years riding a string of these Barbie ponies, until at 18 she left for university and officially handed the last of them over to her younger brother, Aden. Six years later and finally with a semi lucrative corporate salary, Lexa was ready to choose her own horse for the first time in her life.

It occurred to her that this entire endeavour was probably just her way of rebelling. The little information she had about the horse painted him as the absolute opposite of Mr Woods’ specifications in pony shopping, and if she bought him she planned to do so with the money her father had sent for her birthday. Lexa had made a point of not telling a soul where she was going that Sunday - her friends at work weren’t interested in horses, her friends that were would try to talk her out of it, and Anya would crack endless jokes about a lesbian riding a horse named ‘Dick’. Lexa wasn’t ready for that until she’d decided if she was buying the damn thing. Besides, it was rather fun to be out seeing a horse of her own accord for once. She could have opinions! Make decisions! As the child of a highly opinionated riding coach, independence in the equestrian world was quite the new experience. 

The first thing Lexa noted about the yard when she pulled up at a quarter to three was the lack of stable hands scurrying about. She was used to yards that employed people for every other job, so that the client didn’t have to lift a finger except to get on their horse. Here it was peaceful and quiet; there was a horse being hosed down in a corner, and a labrador sunbathing on a pile of hay, but other than that there were no great signs of life. There was a small office to one side, and upon knocking at the door Lexa was greeted by a tall, rather severe looking woman, whose short greeting matched the voice on the phone. She led Lexa through a large barn, and stopped at the very last box. ‘This is the horse you rang about. Sorry I can’t tell you more but I’ve really nothing to do with him - I’ll send Clarke along to sort you out.’ With that she strode off down the aisle, leaving Lexa suddenly alone with the large horse who had poked his head over the stable door at the sound of their voices. ‘Hello there’ she said, reaching out to rub his nose. From just his head she could tell he was huge - it was the size of her torso, and sturdily built. He stood still while she patted his neck, but she rather got the impression he was putting up with her to be polite. Sure enough, as soon as he heard footsteps he immediately disregarded her in favour of whickering at whoever was approaching from behind Lexa. She whipped around to see a blonde woman strolling towards her, grinning like a cat. ‘I see you’ve met Dicko already! I’m Clarke, lovely to make your acquaintance…?’ She trailed off, and Lexa suddenly realised that was her cue. ‘Lexa! Lexa Woods. Sorry, when your colleague said Clarke I thought…’ Clarke grinned even wider. ‘You were expecting a strapping young lad. Everyone does, don’t worry about it. I can’t help but ask, is that Woods as in Aden Woods?’ Lexa inwardly groaned. Her little brother had had a fantastic year and was constantly in the equestrian press crowing about his latest win. The forced publicity had been a huge part of Lexa’s decision to break away from the family sport, but it followed her nevertheless. She cursed herself for the automatic formality of adding her last name. When she answered begrudgingly in the positive Clarke almost whooped with delight. ‘I’ve been competing against your brother all season! Fantastic horses, my poor nags don’t stand a chance,’ she lamented. ‘That’s why I’m selling Dick, he’s too much of a chunk to compete with the nippy little things everyone rides these days.’ Peering into the box at his deep chest and thick neck, Lexa couldn’t help but agree. Her father’s horses were slight things built for speed and agility around a course - this guy would never be able to turn his massive body as easily as they did.

‘He’s built like a brick shit house,’ Lexa drawled - ‘you really didn’t bother to describe him much in the ad, I didn’t have a clue what to expect.’ She had followed Clarke across the aisle into a tack room, where the other girl was hoisting a saddle down from its rack on the wall. Lexa definitely did not take the opportunity to notice the delicious curve of her ass as she stretched up to reach for a bridle. That would be terribly unprofessional, and Lexa was here on business. Then again, a little appreciation for the female form never hurt anyone. Clarke turned around, and Lexa suddenly found a spot on the wall that was very interesting. She allowed her eyes to slide back to the girl’s face as she spoke. ‘I’m not all too keen to see him go, actually,’ Clarke explained. ‘The herd needs trimming and he and I don’t really gel in the saddle so he was the obvious choice, but I’ll certainly miss seeing his big schnoz every day. He’s surprisingly cuddly.’ Lexa laughed. She could imagine Clarke enjoying a cuddle (she then quickly stopped imagining that, on account of her professionalism) but could barely imagine Dick enjoying a cuddle. He was just so… enormous. Clarke led Lexa into the enormous horse’s enormous loose box and began to brush him down. They fell into an easy conversation about Clarke’s showjumping season, and Lexa found herself spending more time admiring the girl than the horse she’d come to see. She’d never come across someone so casually athletic, and deeply attractive, and effortlessly friendly; Clarke seemed to have it all. Lexa was utterly entranced by the movement of her arms as she swept the brush across Dick’s gleaming coat. It wasn’t until asked what she planned to do with the horse that she came to her senses with a start. ‘I don’t know - I just want a horse again,’ she stammered out, feeling an absolute fool in front of this girl who seemed so incredibly sure of herself. Lexa hadn’t been so embarrassed of herself since she’d fallen off a rowdy pony as a teenager in front of a highly esteemed showjumper who her father had paid to give her a lesson. She’d always prided herself on her unflustered nature when it came to pretty girls - not once had she ever blushed when accidentally brushing fingers with a cute stable hand, or stammered when speaking to one of her gorgeously snooty fellow competitors. In front of Clarke, however, she wanted to melt into a puddle of goo. She steeled herself, looked directly into Clarke’s expectant gaze, and promptly lost her nerve again. She’d have to conduct this entire trial staring at the wall. Clarke lifted an eyebrow. ‘You did leave it all behind rather dramatically, if I remember “Woods-gate” correctly… have you not ridden since then?’ Lexa shrugged. ‘With friends here and there, but not seriously. I expect I’ll be rather useless today,’ she stopped, suddenly realising that she would, in fact, be useless today - not only would Clarke’s steady gaze be following her around the arena and likely judging her every move, she had probably lost every single useful muscle she’d ever possessed. This was going so much worse than the distantly polite experience she’d expected. Registering the first part of Clarke’s question, she continued. ‘Woods-gate was fucking terrible wasn’t it! I meant to leave quietly with a firm conversation with my father and maybe a tiny article about my retirement in the Horse and Hound, but father was so frightful after that last show I couldn’t help myself. I’d never had a public outburst before - I worry it made me look like an absolute spoiled brat but there was just no way I could take it for another second.’ She bit her lip. That monologue had taken her by surprise - she hadn’t talked to anyone about the minorly scandalous affair other than her therapist. There was a silence as Clarke lifted the saddle onto Dick’s back and fiddled with the stirrup leathers. Lexa thought she’d quite like to drop down dead in that moment. Whatever could the girl be thinking? She must have sounded like such a poor little rich girl. Eventually Clarke patted the horse’s rump and turned to Lexa. ‘I thought it was quite admirable actually - my friends and I always thought you got the shit end of the stick from your father. We had bets on how long you’d keep taking it.’ She grinned. ‘I won, so thanks for that.’ Lexa buried her face in her hands. ‘Was it that obvious? My father was so obsessed with our image as a winning family, he’d be mortified to think people were betting on our dramas.’ ‘Oh no! Everyone else thought you were all darling - it was just us lot that thought nothing could be that perfect.’ You’re that perfect, Lexa thought, before mentally scolding herself and forcing her mind back to the conversation. ‘Anyway - I’ve missed riding, but I wanted a kind of horse I’ve never ridden before. I thought a horse called Dick couldn’t possibly be anything like my father’s horses, and so far I’ve been bang on. How is he to ride?’ She congratulated herself for bringing the conversation back to the reason for her being here - she surely couldn’t embarrass herself discussing the horse. Clarke smirked. ‘I wondered when you’d mention his name. He’s actually called Richard, I shortened it to Dick to annoy my mother. She doesn’t think it’s “professional” or “even remotely acceptable in any polite company” to have a horse called Dick. I think it’s hilarious.’ With that, she led the horse out of the barn. ‘And you can shortly find out for yourself how he is to ride!’ 

Sure enough, within fifteen minutes Lexa was climbing onto a mounting block. Clarke had swung herself easily up onto the horse’s back to warm him up and show Lexa his paces, making the whole thing look completely effortless. Now, judging the distance between her foot and his stirrup, Lexa knew her own performance would not remotely mirror that. In her jumping days she had regularly vaulted onto her horses from the ground, but that seemed like an incredibly long time ago. Trying not to think about it too hard in order to let her muscle memory do the work, Lexa hoisted herself up into the saddle, managing to maintain a modicum of grace in the process. She’d take that as a small victory. As her legs settled into the familiar position, she tried to focus on the horse beneath her rather than the girl sitting on a jump in the middle of the ring. Dick was seventeen hands tall, and she felt every inch of it in his long stride as she nudged him into a walk. She found him surprisingly comfortable - he moved rhythmically, and felt reassuringly solid between her legs. Breaking into a trot, Lexa grinned. His movement was fluid and he was surprisingly light footed despite his size. She soon lost herself in the beat of his hooves as she put him through his paces, finding him beautifully responsive as she asked him to collect and extend, bending obediently around her leg on the turns. He’d been schooled to what seemed like absolute perfection. When she finally drew him to a stop in front of Clarke, she was beaming. ‘Clarke, I think I’m in love. Are all of your horses this well schooled? You must never be out of the saddle!’. Clarke’s laugh pealed out across the yard. ‘No, the rest of them are fiery little shits. Dicko is my respite after a long day of practising saintly patience with the four year olds,’ she said. ‘He’s never normally this good for other people though, you must be special.’ Lexa thought she must be imagining the slight twinkle in Clarke’s eyes as she said it. ‘The real test is if he behaves when you jump him,’ she continued, moving across to drop an enormous upright into a more inviting cross. ‘Keep him steady if you can, and be prepared to move with him or he’ll jump you out of the saddle,’ Clarke instructed. Lexa noted the cadence her voice took on as she began to coach, and wondered idly if Clarke taught lessons. It wasn’t until she turned Dick toward the jump that she realised exactly what Clarke had said - “keep him steady if you can”. Shit, she thought. This could get interesting. Sure enough, as soon as he locked onto the jump the big horse began to speed up. Ears pricked and going straight as an arrow, he almost galloped at the little cross pole Clarke had set up, and flew over it at twice the height. Lexa was just glad she’d had the presence of mind to ride defensively, so didn’t get left behind. Clarke whooped. ‘Well sat!’ she called. ‘He might settle down a bit once you’ve done it a few times.’ Lexa all but rolled her eyes at that. She felt she was sat atop a coiled spring; Dick’s every muscle was straining to get at the jump again, and as she pointed him at it this time she knew settling down was the last thing he intended to do. This time he soared over giving it even more space, and plunged into a series of celebratory bucks upon landing. Lexa also landed… on the ground, at Clarke’s feet. The wind had been entirely knocked out of her, but other than bruises to her arse and ego she didn’t think any real damage had been done. Clarke concernedly swooped down over her, critical eyes inspecting Lexa’s expression for signs of pain before offering her a hand up. Lexa took it, and was hauled to her feet with a wince. ‘I’m terribly sorry about that,’ Clarke said worriedly, ‘but I promise it wasn’t personal, he did it to me the first time I jumped him too.’ Lexa huffed out a laugh, still trying to catch her breath. ‘It’s alright, really, I’ve sat worse. I’m just horribly rusty. I’ll have another go.’ Clarke’s face cracked into a beaming smile, and Lexa felt she might just have earned the girl’s respect. Clarke caught Dick, who was looking incredibly pleased with himself, and gave Lexa a leg up into the saddle. Clarke’s firm grip of her thigh did nothing for Lexa’s concentration on the horse, but she was quickly forced to focus as he danced beneath her, desperate to go again. Lexa took a deep breath and brought him once more to that unassuming little jump. This time she was ready for him, and sat up immediately upon landing to deal with his excitable bucking. Clarke just grinned deviously and made the jump a massive upright. As soon as Lexa said the word, Dick flew over anything she asked of him; by the end of the ride he was slick with sweat, but Lexa thought that if horses could smile his grin would match her own. She slid off him and turned, beaming, to Clarke. ‘I’ll take him!’


End file.
